


Mornings

by anndreeuhh



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, It Gets Better, Lost Years, Sad, Yearning, time apart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 03:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30149853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anndreeuhh/pseuds/anndreeuhh
Summary: Claire finds that mornings are particularly difficult.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Frank Randall, Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Just a wee ficlet inspired by a poem I recently read by Rupi Kaur. All mistakes are my own.

I live for that first second in the morning  
When I am still half-conscious  
I hear the hummingbirds outside  
Flirting with the flowers  
I hear the flowers giggling  
and the bees growing jealous  
When I turn over to wake you  
It starts all over again  
The panting  
The wailing  
The shock  
Of realizing  
That you’ve left

Every time I woke up it was bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss.

Until I roll over and my arms stretch to reach for the solid, warm muscle of my husband only to connect with a different kind of familiar flesh. I rip my hand away as if I’m burned.

And then I remembered. It was Frank next to me. Jamie sent me back. Then the pain rolls over me like waves crashing against the shore in the midst of a violent storm.

I hated mornings.

Luckily Frank had only awoken during one of my morning incidents a handful of times. The first time he had reveled in it. He had smiled and rolled into my erroneous embrace to kiss me and I had recoiled so quickly it was as if someone had thrown a bucket of boiling water into my face. The smile had fallen off of Franks face rather quickly and any future mornings that started the same way were thankfully ignored.

Frank had returned home late last night and was fortunately too tired to wake from my incidental cuddling.

I rolled over to look at the clock. 4:47 a.m. Early.

I couldn’t stand to stay in bed with the wrong husband so I got out of bed, threw on my robe, and padded down the hall to the nursery.

Brianna is the only thing that keeps me breathing most days. She is so like Jamie it is almost painful.

I push the door of the nursery open and gaze at my precious, sleeping bundle.

I can hear the birds chirping just outside the window, ready to greet the sun and take on a new day.

The sounds transport me back. Back to a quieter, more peaceful time. Back to the mornings where the sounds of nature were all that I could hear as I watched Jamie sleep.

Those were some of the moments that I felt I could truly see him. Unlike myself, Jamie was a master at keeping his emotions off of his face. Those peaceful early moments I could watch Jamie unabashedly. And more often than not, I’d caress his face and be blessed with that beautiful smile.

I see that same smile on my beautiful baby now and feel an ache in my chest.

 _You are so like him_. I think.

Almost as if she senses my presence and where my thought are taking me, Brianna wakes and smiles at me. My sweet girl.

Almost immediately she starts to coo at me, demanding my attention and to be picked up.

This is how mornings came to belong to Brianna and me.

Frank would always make himself scarce in the mornings. He knew that I needed that time. And he let me have it.

Just another thing for me to be grateful to him for. And another thing for me to feel guilty about.

XXXXX

I awoke with a start, eyes still closed. My heart was still hammering in my chest while I tentatively reached out with my left hand to feel the space beside me.

Empty, cold sheets.

 _A dream_. I thought to myself. _Of course_.

I felt a physical pain in my chest at the thought. How foolish of me. Of course it was a dream. I’d been having the same one for nearly twenty years.

Suddenly, a door opens and a low “Sassenach,” forces my eyes open.

There he is. Jamie. Hair tied back, boots laced, tugging on his jacket getting ready for another day of work at the Ridge.

The sight of him almost makes me weep.

I must have actually started to cry because Jamie is at my side in an instant, cupping my face in his hands and bringing his forehead to rest against mine.

“Mo nighean donn,” he says quietly. “What is wrong?”

I don’t speak. The emotions swirling within me making me unable to do so.

“Yer scaring me, Sassenach.”

After another moment I hear, “Claire.”

Jamie rarely ever calls me by my name. I snap out of whatever emotional daze I was in and give my husband a watery smile.

“I’m sorry,” I say to him. “It’s just that sometimes I forget.”

“Forget what, my own?”

“Sometimes I forget that our life here at the Ridge is not just some wonderful dream. Some days I wake up expecting to be back in my bed in Boston. Living a shell of a life, barely getting through each day.”

I can see the pain that my admission has caused him. He too knows the feeling.

“Aye. I ken what ye are saying.” He pauses. “There are days that I wake and canna believe that ye are lying next to me.”

I caress his face, lightly kissing his cheek as I move to bury my face in his neck.

“It doesna do to dwell on the years we lost, Sassenach. There's the two of us now.”


End file.
